


Hurting, but no less strong for it

by lunaemoth



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Agoraphobia, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 21:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: For akink-meme prompt.Evelyn Trevelyan suffers from agoraphobia. The weight of her responsibilities and a crowded courtyard lead to a relapse severe enough for her to be afraid of leaving her rooms at Skyhold. Solas and Dorian will do their best to help her, and she will accept that the Inquisitor doesn't need to be perfect. She can be strong, even when her mind is wounded.





	Hurting, but no less strong for it

**Author's Note:**

> **Original prompt:** _I have agoraphobia and have had a relapse for the last few days. I was hoping someone might be interested in a Trevelyan who struggles with agoraphobia and generally handles it pretty well. But eventually the stress of always being out and about (along with the world ending and all that jazz) is wearing on her, and Trevelyan relapses. Her LI/best friend (prefer Solas as LI/Cassandra or Dorian if using BFF) is trying to help and drags her from Skyhold, thinking she just needs to face her fear/have a good time and forget her fear/what have you. Except she's already scared and it quickly escalates to terror in the open with a bunch of people around. So she has a massive panic attack and relapses even worse (would prefer for them to get her to privacy before everyone notices.) So Trevelyan goes from not being able to leave Skyhold, to not being able to leave her room and having a panic attack if she gets too close to the stairwell. Cue supportive friends and 'anxious to learn how to be supportive,' Solas (or whoever.)_  
>  It'd be really cool if one of the cast is experienced with agoraphobia (either personal, or had a loved one with it.) Also it would be really amazing if in a scene one of the cast, instead of pressuring or cajoling Trevelyan to leave her room, offers solutions to help her feel more at ease in leaving. (What I would give for someone to know to do this for me when I'm too scared to think straight.)  
> Prefer no sex, but if it was Solas who made things worse he apologizes and some fluffy 'I forgive you/stop beating yourself up,' kisses are had.
> 
> NB: I'm French, English isn't my first language, and this isn't betaed so you can expect some mistakes. If anything bother you, please send me a nice comment with the correction.

Dorian had meant well and, as always, he was extremely persuasive with his sweet talking, casual touches and charming grin.

“Come on, Evy,” he had said with enthusiasm. “You need to get out more! You’re always in the meeting room or in your chambers.” He had ignored her attempt to point out that she often went around Skyhold to check that everything was going on smoothly (and if she carefully selected the moments when there was as few people as possible where she went, it was only not to bother overworked people… at least that was her excuse). “This small fair Josephine organized in the lower courtyard is delightful, I promise you. I found this tailor, he has the most gorgeous fabrics I have seen in the south. And there is this blue silk which would match your eyes perfectly. I convinced him to put it aside for the Inquisitor. You have to see it.”

She had let herself be convinced: he was her best friend, she really needed a new dress, and it couldn’t be that bad, right? She was safe in Skyhold, she knew the castle well, and she had never had a problem here. She needed to confront her fears and prove to herself she could do it. She could do it!

Wrong.

She couldn’t, and it _could_ be _that_ bad. It even could be the start of the worst panic attack she had felt in years.

They had reached the tailor’s stall, and she was distantly aware of Dorian chatting about the quality of the fabric, pushing her to touch it. She did and appreciated its soft caress. She looked up to say so. That’s when she noticed how crowded the courtyard had become. She had been uneasy when they had made their way between the stalls, but now that they were not moving, it was hundred times worse. She was jostled as people moved around her, and on each side there was something or someone in her way. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t flee. Inescapably, the crowd seemed to close in on her, the world seemed to contract. It made her dizzy. A great pressure weighed on her, stopping her from breathing.

Suddenly, she was moving. That was so startling, especially due to the lack of air, that she nearly keeled over. Distantly, she was aware of Dorian holding her hand firmly and protecting her from the crowd with an arm around her shoulders. Once she had some space to think and breathe, she realized he was talking to her and had led her away from the market only .

Dorian made her sit down on a crate, but she wouldn’t be able to say where she was or even what that odor coming from the wood could be. She was too busy hyperventilating, feeling like the act of breathing suddenly seemed unfathomable.

“Evy, you need to calm your breath. In and out. Slowly,” Dorian was saying.

She listened, she really did, but when she tried to slow down her breathing, it felt like she hadn’t enough air. She was suffocating. What a silly death that would be for the Inquisitor. How pathetic.

“What happened?” Someone asked.

Solas was coming toward them. They were in the upper courtyard. Solas must have seen them leave the fair, because he was hastily climbing the last steps and rushing toward them, a book under his arm.

Despite having left the crowd, the panic and urgency were still bad. They were in the open, she felt exposed. Evelyn had to stand up and pace to pacify her nerves and occupy her tense limbs, never mind that her head was spinning as she did. Dorian hadn’t released her hand, and she wasn’t really aware that she was gripping it like an anchor, forcing him to stretch out his arm as she paced.

“She panicked and hyperventilated,” Dorian explained to the newcomer. “It’s the crowd I think. I knew she didn’t like them, but I thought it was because everyone always watch her wherever we go. A fair in Skyhold seemed safe.”

Evelyn pressed a hand to her chest as her heart seemed determined to implode. She  looked around, wide-eyed. They were partly hidden from view by the tavern wall, but anyone coming from the stairs could see them. They hadn’t gathered much attention yet, but it couldn’t last. Oh, Maker, what if everyone heard that she panicked for such a small thing? Her reputation would take a blow. The Inquisition couldn’t afford it. Everyone would be so disappointed with her…  

She then raised her shaking hand to her lips. She was so tensed that her fingers were curved like claws.

Solas appeared in her field of vision and gently took her hand between his to remove them from the clenching teeth endangering them. “Evy. _Just look at me._ ”

His voice had always managed to catch her attention. Once he had it, she was too weak to look away from him. That held true even in the middle of a panic attack.

“ _Good,_ ” he approved once their eyes had met for a few seconds. “ _Now look past me and relax. Listen carefully. Something happened to you. Your mind was wounded and your spirit is compensating. Nothing to worry about. There is no true danger. You’re in control here. Focus on what is here. In this world. Feel the ground. The breath in your lungs. Fabric rustling against your skin._ ” _( **[AUDIO](http://ashkaarishok.tumblr.com/post/165688524235/corseque-download-link-based-on)** )_

She did as he said, focusing on each, until the need to control everything, including her breathing, ebbed away enough that it came back to her naturally.

_“Good. It’s alright. It can be overwhelming for anyone.”_

Evelyn didn’t feel confident enough to speak, but she had relaxed slightly.

“Let’s get you out of plain sight, dear,” Dorian offered.

They led her back to her rooms. She should feel embarrassed for holding their hands all the way through, but if she didn’t she might as well pass out.

Once they were alone in her spacious room, she felt better, but they still needed a lot of patience and kindness before she felt well enough to drink, eat and resume reading the books and reports she had in store to occupy her time. Even then, she was unable to stay put for long, always standing up and pacing after a few minutes, her limbs shaking slightly.

She spent the rest of the day in her rooms, following Solas’ advice to simply take time for herself and relax. Dorian promised he would arrange for everyone to leave her alone, looking eager to make up for his miscalculation.

Surely, that’s all she needed to recover. Right? She tried to convince herself all would be well in the morning, stubbornly pushing away any doubts or worries.

 

oOo

 

Evelyn slept badly, needing hours to fall asleep and waking up too often for a restful sleep. It put her on edge, but it was still a surprise when she went to the staircase to go down for breakfast and was assaulted by the start of a panic attack as soon as she got a view of the exit door.

Fighting to get her breathing under control, she immediately moved away and went to sprawl on her bed, tears of frustration and shame adding themselves to her breakdown. She sobbed for what seemed like hours to her.

A knock startled her and she hid under her covers, her back to the door, to conceal her state. She could hear timid footsteps and the soft voice of her servant calling:

“My lady?”

She made a sound to show she was awake.

“It is late. Do you need me to bring your meal?”

Evelyn cleared her throat before replying: “Yes, please, Ana.”

“Very well, My Lady. Do you need anything else?”

“Solas,” Evie blurted out. She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her outburst, and clarified: “I’m not feeling well. Please, get Solas.” He had knew how to help the day before, maybe he would be able to help her again.

“Right away, My Lady!”

Evelyn waited until she had heard Ana leave before burying her face into a pillow, whining about her inability to be a functional adult, a strong Inquisitor, and an independent woman.

She was so busy with her self-recrimination that she didn’t hear the knock at the door nor its opening.

“Evelyn?”

She startled, squeaked, and hid herself before she realized it was Solas.

She heard him murmur something in elven, something like “Oh, lethallan,” before he spoke up: “Evy, may I sit with you?”

She gestured toward the end of the bed but didn’t dare show her face. She was undoubtedly ugly, with red eyes and tousled hair. She couldn't bear showing herself in this state to her crush.

He gently stroke her back as he sat down next to her. “All is well. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re hurting, but no less strong for it. Please, look at me.”

Sniffling, Evelyn raised her face out of her pillow, adjusting her hair around her face and drying her cheeks, but she didn’t feel confident enough to look at him. Nonetheless, Solas held out his hand, waited for her to notice it and, when she didn’t move away, gently cupped her jaw. It was a show of tenderness and acceptance. It convinced Evelyn to meet his eye.

“There you go,” he said before taking her hand and raising it to his chest. “Focus on your breath. Copy my rhythm. Nothing else to worry about.”

Nodding slightly, Evelyn looked down at her hand on Solas chest. It was slowly moving with his ribs. She copied him and her breath deepened, her heart quieted, her brain focused.

Solas smiled encouragingly and helped her straighten. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Despite her voice quivering and her breath getting stuck in her throat on a few occasions, she managed to explain how she had thought she could resume her life but the simple vision of the door had gotten her to panic. Then the dam was broken, and she explained how frustrated she felt: she knew it was illogical and silly, she _knew,_ but she couldn’t rein in this deep feeling of anxiety at the mere idea of going out. What if she had a public panic attack? What if everyone saw it and Dorian or Solas couldn’t be there to help, leaving her to be the laughing stock of nobles, the shame of advisors and soldiers…?

Somehow, she ended up curled against Solas, her bent knees on his lap, her face against his neck, her hands clenched on his shirt, and his arm around her waist, his chin resting on her hair as he listened and slowly rocked her back and forth.

He was murmuring in elven as she spoke, his voice too low to be understandable, the foreign sounds simply there for comfort, like a lullaby.

“I am so pathetic,” she concluded with a sob barely held in.

“No, lethallan, you are not. Nor weak,” he replied gently, brushing back a few strands from her face. “Your mind is wounded. From what I understand, you have been aware of its presence for a long time, you took care not to worsen it, but you also refused to accept it for what it is: a sensitive scar, not well healed, which will inevitably flare up once in awhile. The gravity of this relapse surprised you and most wouldn’t understand it, but it does not make it any less serious and worthy of care and kindness than any visible, flesh wounds. You need to take care of your wounded mind and to be kind with yourself.”

Evelyn looked up, her eyes filled with tears, not from her anxiety, but from his thoughtfulness. She didn’t think he would understand. No-one had. They hadn’t necessarily been mean about it, but they certainly hadn’t been able to comprehend what she was going through.

She was startled by the door opening. Feeling embarrassed at being seen, she looked around, wide-eyed, until Solas gently pushed her toward the folding screen between which was organized a small bathroom corner. “Go refresh yourself, lethallan,” he said softly.

He handled Ana, thanking her before asking her to bring the other meals here too and to inform the advisors that the Inquisitor was indisposed.

Evelyn relaxed a little more at the idea she wouldn’t need to leave her room today, but guilt soon followed. She had missions to do, orders to give; she couldn’t stay shut in. Leaning heavily on the table holding a basin of water for her ablutions, Evelyn lowered her head and beat her lip to keep the tears away. She felt torn in half between her duty and her agoraphobia. It had become worse and worse since she got the anchor and the responsibilities coming with it. She sometimes missed the Circle, where she rarely had to face her phobia.

She heard Solas arranging breakfast on her desk and quickly washed her face and hands. He was so kind, she didn’t want him to get impatient.

He didn’t seem in any hurry however. He was standing by the balcony, looking at the mountains in the distance. He glanced at her and gave him one of his small smiles she liked so much. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, glancing at the food uncertainly. It was some of her favorite food for breakfast: tea, toasts with raspberry jam, and some warm honeyed milk that Ana only brought her when she was sick. Her stomach felt much too knotted to take any of it.

Solas didn’t insist, but he held out a hand for her. When she was by his side, she noticed several pillows were on the ground. “I am familiar with what ails you. While I do not fear crowds and uncomfortable spaces, I knew some who did, and I have experienced fits of panic which leave both mind and body shaking and malfunctioning. Would you let me teach you ways to appease your suffering?”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, overwhelmed by the idea there could be ways to handle what had been the bane of her existence since she got out of puberty. “Yes, please.”

They sat down on the pillows facing the mountains. The windows were half-open to let fresh hair and distant sounds in. Solas' deep and calm voice guided her through a series of exercises who helped her to relax her body, calm her mind and center herself.

“This won’t cure you,” he warned her gently by the end. “Like any other skill, meditating needs practice. However, with enough practice, should you ever feel yourself panic, this can help you stave off the attack or appease its effects.”

She nodded and let him pull her to her feet before gently pushing her toward her meal. Now that they had focused on relaxing, she felt capable of eating something. She wasn’t really hungry, but at least she wouldn’t be sick. Since she was only nibbling, she managed to convince Solas to eat with her, to avoid wasting the food. They stayed in companionable silence for a good part of it, until Evelyn found the courage to ask:

“What about… what about my agoraphobia?”

“This is the lingering issue, isn’t it? Am I right to believe you dread going out?”

She nodded brusquely.

“But you still want to continue your duties and this puts even more pressure on you.”

She looked down and nodded once.

Solas hummed softly and thought it through. “I have been led to understand you are to have a meeting with your advisors. This can be easily moved to your chambers. If you do not wish for them to know what ails you, I can simply inform them you need to stay in bed for some rest, anything else does not need to be their concern.”

“You… you would do that?”

“Of course, this is no trouble.”

“Oh, thank you. That would be perfect.”

He smiled softly and bowed his head. “Now, on the matter of getting you to leave your rooms, what would you say of a small walk tonight? When the castle lays dormant, its hallways empty, under the soft light of the moons and stars, you should feel more at ease then. I’ll accompany you and be by your side should you need me.”

“That… that would be easier,” she agreed, “but I can’t live at night.”

“Small steps, lethallan. You need to be comforted in the idea that you _can_ leave your rooms without panic, then we’ll work on the idea that you can do so in a more busy environment, not alone of course, not for a while. I’ll be there, or anyone else of your choosing.”

“Dorian,” she blurted out immediately.

He nodded in understanding.

 

oOo

 

Whatever Solas told them, her advisors were understanding and considerate. They didn’t comment on her health and simply asked if they could do anything for her before delving into the meeting’s topic. There was an awkward moment when they realized they had forgotten to take a map, too used to the giant one staying in the war room, but Cullen shrugged and volunteered to go get one. If going up and down the stairs bothered him, he didn’t show it at all. “You should keep one in your rooms anyway, Inquisitor,” he commented as he rolled it out on her lap.

For a second, stuck in her bed, with Cullen so close and Leliana and Josephine on her other side, she felt a hint of unease and worried she would get another panic attack. Fortunately, Cullen stepped back and Leliana, either the observant one, asked: “Is there something you need, Inquisitor?”

“Could… could you open a window please? I’m feeling a bit too hot.”

Josephine eagerly went to do so. The cold breeze that brushed Evelyn’s skin was sufficient to help her calm down and resume the meeting, following it to its end without any other incident.

 

Solas came back to have dinner with her and told her that Dorian had approached him upon hearing the Inquisitor was indisposed. Knowing she felt like she could rely on the Tevinter mage, Solas had explained what ailed her, and Dorian had been eager to help.

“He’ll be happy to accompany you wherever you wish, in particular if I’m otherwise occupied. I believe he felt somewhat responsible for your relapse in the courtyard. He mentioned he wouldn’t have insisted if he had understood the depth of your unease for crowded space. He also suggested the use of fire barriers should you need people to give you space, although I do not recommend it.”

Evelyn giggled at the suggestion and the face Solas made as he said it — fondly disapproving.

As he had suggested, they went for a walk late in the evening. Before that however, Solas helped her to meditate again, so she could be as relaxed as possible before she got into the anxiety-inducing situation they had planned. To prepare her, he talked her through imagining she did it in her mind, helping her to stay calm through it all. Knowing he was always by her side was a comfort.

Once the time came, holding onto her cloak, Evelyn stared at the exit door with shaking hands but a determined expression. She couldn’t convince herself to take the first step however, not until Solas went before her and opened the door, then looked back to her calmly in an open invitation void of pressure.

When she finally managed to put a foot down on that damn step, she ran down the rest of the stairs, like someone afraid of water diving in to get rid of the experience as fast as possible.

The stairs felt too small, so she went down them in a rush until she found a door she knew led to an open walkway, fortunately deserted. Only then did she slow down enough for Solas to catch up to her.

Unbothered, he offered her his arm and laid his hand on hers when she accepted it. He patted her skin gently and gave her an encouraging smile. “Well done. The first step is always the hardest.”

He set the pace for the rest of their walk and kept her busy with a constant discussion about the Fade, engaging her so she would focus on him and not their surroundings.

They met Cullen on the battlement overseeing the training ground. He stopped his conversation with one of his lieutenants to ask: “Inquisitor. It’s good to see you up. Are you feeling better?”

Evelyn felt trapped. If she said yes, Cullen would expect to see her out of her rooms tomorrow and she might not manage it, but if she said no he wouldn’t understand why she was walking around at night, right?

She had unconsciously tightened her grip on Solas, and her friend took it upon himself to answer for her: “We’re taking advantage of a slight improvement to get her some fresh air.”

Cullen nodded understandingly. “I understand. I hate to be cooped up too. Take care of  yourself Inquisitor. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, you too,” she managed to squeak. Once they were out of hearing, she relaxed and murmured: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, lethallan,” Solas replied, “but do not stress yourself, your advisors like you and only wish the best for your health. Treat your ailment like you would any physical one. Be honest when you’re unwell and when you feel better. They don’t need to know more, and you’ll find they won’t ask for more as long as you tell them what they can do to help. Most people rightfully consider health matters to be private and won’t pry if you don’t volunteer information. If they do, you’re well in your rights to unleash Lady Josephine on them for some lessons in manners.”

Evelyn smiled at the joke and relaxed a bit when she realized that he was right. She _could_ tell people she didn’t feel well without explaining the details. In the same way, if she didn’t feel well in a crowd, she could excuse herself without having to tell them why. She might be the Inquisitor, but she was still human, she could afford some moments of weakness…

This realization made it easier for her to leave her rooms the next day, after a good night of sleep (Solas had put a sleeping spell over her, then promised to look after her in the Fade, so she would be free of nightmares).

She waited for Solas to come fetch her, but she didn’t need to run down the stairs this time. She chose to have breakfast in a private dining room rather than in the refectory, but that was nothing unusual. Josephine and Dorian welcomed her warmly. The ambassador, not knowing if Evelyn would be recovered, had cleared her schedule: Evelyn didn’t need to meet anyone or make any public appearance. Dorian offered to spend some time together on researches, leading her to spend most of her time in the comforting and quiet space of the library, with her best friend by her side and Solas in shouting distance.

A few times, she felt too hot when there were too many people around her. Out of the blue, Dorian started to fan himself with a book, or at least pretend to do so when he was giving _her_ air with grand theatrical gestures, which made her giggle and forget her unease.

The following days were on a similar pattern, slowly increasing in difficulty — she was quite certain that Josephine was consulting Solas on whether or not the Inquisitor’s health was good enough for the activities she planned.

After two weeks, Evelyn left Skyhold with Solas, Dorian and Cassandra. She felt confident enough.

When they went through a big busy town for the first time, both men stayed by her side, and Solas suggested Cassandra should lead the way. Used to this position, the Seeker didn’t even question it and was quick to get everyone moving out of her path.

This evening, in the inn, when Solas knocked at her bedroom door to ask about her well-being, Evelyn shyly craned her neck to kiss his cheek. “I’m doing so much better and it’s thanks to you. Thank you so much, lethallin.”

Solas blinked, looked uncertain for a second, then smiled softly and bowed his head. “I’m glad, fallon.”

He left after caressing the back of her hand with his thumb and kissing it softly, like a butterfly’s touch.  

And if Evelyn cradled this hand to her heart as she went to sleep, no-one needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> For any doubt about the few [elven words](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language).
> 
> **Good to know:** I have some experience with this phobia, but mine is mild. I'm however quite familiar with panic attacks so there is that. Obviously, my take is based on my own experience and everyone has a different one, but I hope this drabble spoke to those familiar with it (it's alright, there are bad days and good days, you can pull through) and those who aren't (just be kind). If you wish to talk about it, you can find me on ashkaarishok.tumblr.com


End file.
